A Thousand Little Bluebirds
by Sparrows13
Summary: Jace is engaged, Clary isn't. He has a family, hers is sending her away. So when they meet aboard The RMS Titanic, one of the largest ships in the world, it's the contrast in their circumstances that bring them together. [AU/AH/OOC/Short Story] -COMPLETE-
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own TMI, nor do I own the movie Titanic, which this is loosely based on. **

**A/N at bottom.**

**A Thousand Little Bluebirds**

**Chapter 1**

* * *

'Do you want to know a secret, Sera?' I ask, kneeling before my little sister. Her white blonde curls peek out from beneath her blue hat as she turns her head up towards me. Her green eyes seem so sharp, like they can cut through glass.

She nods her head, and uses her handkerchief to wipe away any stray tears. 'Yes.' Her voice is barely a whisper.

'I don't want to go either,' I say. I know the only way to keep Seraphina from following me up the makeshift staircase is to make it sound like a chore. 'That ship may look very grand, Sera, but I don't think it's going to stay afloat,' I say, pointing to the enormous ship docked at the harbor.

I sense it's the wrong thing to say as Sera dissolves into another puddle of tears. 'But then won't you be gone if it sinks, Clary?' she asks with a thick voice through her tears. Sera is too young to understand death.

I wrap my arms around her as she sobs uncontrollably. I pluck her hat off of her head, and run my fingers through her curls. The action always seems to calm her down. 'Please don't go,' she says, her voice muffled because she speaks into my skirts.

'I have to,' I say, kissing her hair one last time. 'You'll have mother and father! And you'll have Jeremy.'

She pulls back, and I see an adorable blush color her cheeks. It always does, when I talk about her friend. She gives me a tiny smile, and looks upwards towards to sky. The sky is a beautiful blue, like the color of a thousand little bluebirds scattered across the sky, their color blending with the soft white of the clouds.

'Why are you going, Clary?' she asks, her eyes still trained on the shifting patterns of the clouds.

I can't tell her _why_ I'm going. What am I supposed to tell her, that my childhood and only friend died, that I'm depressed and that mother and father are sending me to live with my aunt and uncle as a change of scenery? If my parents wanted a change in scenery, they'd have sent me to the countryside, not across the sea to another continent. And it isn't as if the First-class tickets are cheap. They've actually spent money on sending me away.

No, they _want_ me to go away. Maybe it is because I've been moping, or because they've gotten so sick of me over the years. They aren't even my real parents. They've adopted me because my real parents named my adoptive mother my Godmother. And Seraphina is my adoptive sister.

Sera turns away as Valentine and Jocelyn wave her over.

I sneak one last look at Sera, and then turn away. I know that if I look at her tear-streaked face any longer, I'll stay. And I can't.

I turn my gaze towards the supposedly largest ship in the world. The RMS Titanic.

* * *

I lean over the railing, and I try to spot Sera's white head in the crowd of people bidding their loved ones goodbye. Beside me, people wave frantically and blow kisses. I roll my eyes inwardly. They're acting like they're never going to see them again. How overly sentimental; it makes me want to gag.

I hear a distinct, shrill voice yell out my name before it is drowned out as the loud sound of the ship's horns sound. I turn towards the voice, and I see Sera waving at me frantically.

I give a small smile and an equally small wave. I prop up my chin on my hand, leaning my elbow on the railing. I watch Sera play with the ribbon on her dress as Valentine and Jocelyn engage in small talk with couples near them, waiting for the ship to leave the dock.

I suddenly feel a sharp jerk and almost fall on my back, and look down at my arm where a man's hand clasps it. I am ready to hurl insults that might make me sound like a pirate at whoever made me almost lose my balance, but then as my eyes fall on him, all anger dissipates.

My eyes have locked on liquid gold ones, so gold they look like the sun in the afternoon, absolutely scorching and…_gold_. His hair is a shade darker than his eyes, tousled by the wind. He blinks a little, and I see his eyes are glassy.

Great, he's already drunk. I haul him up, and he tries to balance but fails and I let him lean on me as I start to move us away from the railing of the edge because I do not need a wasted nobody to jump into the freezing sea yelling 'Geronimo!'

I drag him over to a chair under an awning and he stumbles a little before he sits down, his head lolling. 'You're such a Samaritan,' he slurs, pointing a slightly limp finger towards me.

I ignore him. 'Do you have any family here?' I ask, looking back impatiently. The final horn is going to sound anytime now, and I want to see Seraphina one last time, but I can't just leave him here. I look around for any bell boys, but there are none, or they are assisting others.

He shakes his head, or just moves his head from one side to another—which looks like it's taking a lot of effort. 'Yes, but I don't want to go back to them.'

I scoff. 'You're not five, you're a grown man,' I say, irritated. I glance over my shoulder again. A horn, louder than most, sounds twice, and I know it's undocking. Sera's probably looking for my face among others.

The man smiles toothily. 'Yes, I am a man,' he says. 'I know it. But if you doubt me…' he trails off suggestively, running a finger up my arm. I push him away.

'No. Now, tell me if you have a family because I need to go and check into my room,' I say, giving up hope of seeing Sera again. Stewards and stewardesses bustle about, showing the First and Second class passengers to their rooms.

He looks at me through hooded gold eyes, and raises his eyebrow. Damn him. Why is it that everyone can do that except me? 'They're already in their rooms,' he says.

I cross my arms. 'Do you need me to take you back?'

He seems to consider the question before he tips his head back and closes his eyes. 'No, not now.'

I feel someone tap my shoulder and I spin around. I meet a pair of warm, brown eyes. A woman, around my age with pin straight black hair falling till her waist smiles at me and has a coat hanging on her arm. A red hat with a plume of feathers is perched atop her head and she wears a simple red gown, which she manages to seem elegant in.

'Thank you for handling him. I'm Isabelle Lightwood. His sister,' she says, nodding towards the blond and extending her hand for me to shake. I take it and raise both eyebrows.

'I'm Clary Morgenstern,' I tell her, adopting the name Sera has taken to calling me because isn't it what Valentine and Jocelyn want, for me to have a new life? And because Clarissa sounds way too formal.

Isabelle nods and then walks over to her brother. I assume she's going to shake him awake or that she's going to support him and walk him over to their room but no. What she does is somewhat different and something I should've done.

She slaps him across the face. Hard.

The man blinks, and then registers the pain. 'Isabelle. Go find someone else to torture, you bitch,' he says groggily as he shuts his eyes again.

I just stand there with awkwardness radiating off of me as I watch them. I attempt to discretely walk away but as I am about to do so, Isabelle's hand wraps around my forearm and she looks at me with piercing eyes. 'Can you help me take him back?' she asks hopefully.

I look around the now-almost-empty deck. 'I don't want to sound rude, but I need to get someone to show me to my room where they've already had my luggage stowed,' I say truthfully, pointing to my boarding pass which has my cabin number printed in a blank and a check mark next to the First-class box.

'Well, that room is right next to ours,' she says, smiling triumphantly, leaning over to peek at my pass.

I groan inwardly. There are no stewards around and I don't have it in me to refuse her. 'Sure,' I say as we both grab an arm of his and haul him up, supporting him.

'Lead the way,' I say.

* * *

**A/N: -.- I should stop doing this, uploading another story...but I won't because I'm too stubborn for my own good.**

**So, this was an idea in my head for a while, and thank you, xXxNtKxXx for beta'ing/proof reading this and telling me it was good enough to upload. It's going to be a pretty short story because the Titanic lasted for only a few days, right? And I don't want to drag this out to be something I'm going to regret later on. So, I'm going to keep it short and sweet. Maybe not sweet. IDK.**

**Let me know what you think by reviewing!**

**-∆relia**


	2. Chapter 2

**I changed my pen name from Arelia Miles to Sparrows13...**

**A thank-you to xXxNtKxXx for beta'ing this super fast. She's pure awesomeness. **

**Chapter 2**

* * *

Isabelle and I support the man, taking him by an arm each while he limps pathetically. His eyes are trained on my curls as his arm, which is wrapped around me shifts a little, and he twines a lock of my hair around his fingers.

'This is so…_red_,' he says, looking at it in wonder. 'Like…like…like a rose,' he finishes lamely.

I decide to humour him. 'A rose, huh?' I ask, and he nods.

'Because I like roses,' he says matter-of-factly and then turns his head towards Isabelle. 'Isabelle,' he acknowledges, like he's testing out the name. Then he sticks out his tongue like he's tasted something sour.

'It's such a mouthful. Isabelle, Isabelle, Isabelle,' he keeps saying, ignoring Isabelle's eye roll. 'I'm going to call you Izzy, okay? Because it's much shorter,' he says and hangs his head.

Isabelle huffs. 'You've always been calling me that, Jace,' she says, all nonchalant and I inwardly balk at that.

'Is Jace short for something?' I ask, mostly to disallow an awkward silence, and Isabelle sighs.

'It's short for—' she starts but Jace cuts her off.

'No. I'm not going to tell you,' he says, wagging a finger. 'You tell me yours first.'

I roll my eyes at his childishness. 'Are we really going to play this game?' I say as we turn at a corner and earn disapproving looks from passersby.

'How did you even get drunk this early?' I ask, changing the subject.

Isabelle scoffs, like the answer is fairly obvious, and holds up a dark blue flask which she apparently swiped from his pocket.

Jace frowns. 'Give that back,' he says, his words slightly garbled and reaches for the flask, but Isabelle _tsk_s and holds it away, rolling her eyes.

'I think you've had enough,' she says and slips the flask into her coat pocket.

Jace grumbles something inaudible under his breath and shrugs off our support. He staggers for a bit before he turns the doorknob to a door to his left which I assume leads to his room. The silver plaque on the door declares it to be a private parlor suite.

I watch as Jace pathetically fumbles with the door, and cringe as his head bumps into the door frame before he finally stumbles in and shuts the door behind him.

Isabelle has her arms crossed and watches Jace, unimpressed and bored before she turns to me. 'Your room is the next one,' she says, pointing to the door next to Jace's.

I nod. 'Thank you,' I say and I turn to go before she stops me.

She hesitates before saying, 'Meet us for dinner tonight?' she asks, her eyes hopeful.

I don't have anything else to do, and I believe that their company will be better than none, so I say, 'Okay.'

* * *

My room is huge. It's really unnecessary for me to have such a large room all to myself, and it's also sort of depressing, being alone and all. But I don't complain once I see the huge bed pushed to the corner.

I see a door across the room, and it's made of glass. It leads to the private promenade deck. I roll my eyes. What is the point of all this? Are my parents trying to flaunt their money? Because if they are, shame on them, really. Who's seeing?

I wander around the room; none of its grandeur impresses me. The crystal chandelier, the marble statues, the priceless paintings, nor the architecture. All of it seems empty, devoid of any warmth. But that's probably just my pessimism. I'm sure it's meant to be beautiful, and it is. But without Sera by my side to gawk at the antiques, it's boring.

My bags are already unloaded by the maids as I had told them to. My hands glide over the soft fabrics, but none appeal to me. I sigh and sit on my bed, my hands folded in my lap for what seems like forever.

Just as I am about to go to the bathroom to run the bath, a knock on my door startles me.

Confused, I make my way over to the door, being careful not to stub my toe on the fancy chairs or something because that hurts like a bitch.

I throw the door open, ready to dismiss any maid who might've come up to ask me if I required any of their services. I open my mouth to say, 'No, thank you,' but my words die in my throat as I see Jace standing in the doorway, his gold hair falling into his eyes.

I sigh warily. 'If this is about—' I start to say but he cuts me off.

'I wanted to thank you,' he says, his voice clipped. 'Isabelle thought it'd be nice of me. Though I don't see why I should thank you for ruining my buzz.'

Well, ouch. It stings to hear that from someone I barely know. And I don't even know _why_. So I don't let it show. 'Well, I would've let you be drunk as much as you wanted, really, but I really didn't want to watch you choke on your own bile in public and possibly hurtle off the edge,' I bite back remorselessly.

His brows rise. 'And why do you care?' he asks, and I pause.

Why do I care? I don't know. Maybe because it's like reflex since I've cared for my drunk father—adoptive— so many times, that I've become so used to it.

'You thanked me, thanks accepted,' I say curtly and turn, with my hand on the knob but Jace stops me.

'Isabelle wanted to know if you'd be joining us tonight,' he informs me, his voice softer now, but somehow restrained.

'Sure,' I say after little deliberation. Why not?

'Well, she wanted to let you know that it's formal tonight. And wear green,' he said, shutting the door.

I don't really have much of a good taste in clothes because it's not always been the first or even second thing on my mind.

So after the maids have pulled the strings on my corset, effectively tightening the death trap on me, I dismiss them to their quarters and wander about, with five dresses laid out on my bed.

I run my fingers over the green silk of the evening gown and think, _oh, what the hell?_

I pull the sleeves over my shoulders, and smooth out the skirt. The light yellow embroidery along the waist and sleeves which come till my elbow catch the light and seem like they're spun out of the finest gold. I slip my feet into golden heels.

Once the maids are back, they yank and pull at my hair, apologizing in between—to which I reply that it's okay—as they try to tame my curls. Nothing can really be done about them, I've learnt over the years, but I'm proved wrong when I finally look up—expecting to see a rat's nest—and see a braided bun with loose curls falling free.

Before they leave, I thank them. I sit at my vanity, waiting for god-knows-what, and then I sigh. It's really against my wishes, what I'm going to do. I'm going to socialize with people who are not my family and who are not Simon. And I'm sure it's going to go over badly.

* * *

After half-an hour, I'm seated at the dining hall, where soft notes from the grand piano fill the silence, and so does the quiet chattering of first-class families.

Obviously, I feel completely out-of-place in such an ambiance, so I do what any sane person would do. I slink back into the chair, trying to disappear.

But before I can get the chance to vanish or just poof into thin air, I see someone in my peripheral vision. And that someone just has to be Jace.

But he's not alone, and he's not with Isabelle either.

A waiter pulls out a chair for the pretty Asian woman on Jace's arm, and she sits down, completely oblivious to me. I raise a brow.

Jace sees me slumping in my chair, so I straighten immediately, smoothing out my skirt. He clears his throat. 'This is Aline,' he tells me.

I tilt my head. What am I supposed to say to that? 'Okay,' I start to say.

'My fiancé,' Jace says, and then I think, _Isabelle, where are you?_

* * *

**A/N: Hey, I'm back...sort of. Those who read my other story, Crossed, please understand that I won't update anytime soon because of exams.  
**

**Let me know what you think in a review?**

**-Sparrows**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own TMI. **

**xXxNtKxXx is amazing for beta'ing this. And replying to my late night WhatsApp texts. Because I'm nocturnal.**

**Chapter 3**

* * *

Aline smiles at me from where she sits, diagonal from me. Jace sits next to me and across Aline, his knee bobbing up and down. What is wrong with this boy? Can he not sit still for a single, precious minute?

Jace leans back, smiling at Aline who's smiling at me and I'm sitting here smiling at Isabelle who is smiling at Jace. There is a lot of smiling going on, and it is awkward.

Isabelle had arrived a few minutes after I'd seated myself and had someone pour me a generous amount of wine, half of which is gone by now, and a pleasant buzz runs through my veins, giving me the self-restraint to smile and not run out of the dining hall with my face on fire. Because then people would think I have a closet full of crazy pants.

I'm thankful when Isabelle clears her throat. 'Mother and father will be here any time now with Max,' she states, trying to ward off the weirdness.

'Who's Max?' I ask, taking another sip, trying to ignore Jace's watchful eyes on me.

'Our little brother,' Isabelle tells me once everyone's smiles diminish enough to actually converse and not tear off our cheek muscles. 'He's nine and likes food.'

What a nice description. Likes food. Kind of like I tell people _Hey, I'm Clary and I like to punch people when they insult my sister and also, my hand will hurt like a bitch later but I will not tell you that._

I shrug. 'Sounds nice,' I tell her as I pick at the mat like a child.

'Isabelle!' a very feminine voice coos from behind me. 'How nice to see you here!' she gushes. I turn around fractionally, and see a blonde woman sashay over to our table. She has a haughty demeanour and a sort of whore-like vibe. She bats her eyelashes, showing off her bright blue eyes—unnaturally blue, really.

I hear Jace groan quietly next to me and he rubs his temples. 'Kaelie,' Isabelle acknowledges with a very un-ladylike snort. 'Come to harass my brother some more?'

The woman—Kaelie huffs in indignation. 'Jace is my friend!' she defends, and though I don't know her, even I can tell she's got a lot more in mind than _just friends_.

'Oh? Pray tell, Miss Whitewillow, what is your definition of _friend_? One whose heart you break after extracting all possible resources from? One whom you leave after you were with them for a year with the promise of marriage? Need I go on?'

From Isabelle's tone and all her accusations, I gather that Kaelie is one of Jace's old flings. Somehow, I don't like the idea of that. And it's stupid, because I don't even know him. It's probably because I like Aline, and I don't like Jace's earlier conquest ruining things for them. Yes, that must be it.

Speaking of, Aline looks livid. 'Kaelie, do I need to remind you that he is engaged to _me _now?' she says quietly.

To my surprise, Kaelie smirks. 'Oh honey, we both know why he's marrying you,' she jabs. Confused, I look towards Isabelle for clarification. She simply shakes her head when we make eye contact and I decide not to pry.

Before Kaelie can say anything, she's tapped on the shoulder. When she turns around, she pales.

'Mother, you're here!' Isabelle claps her hands, looking at the woman standing behind Kaelie with glee. The woman glares at Kaelie.

'Kaelie, I've told you time and again to stay away from my family. Next time, I promise you I will not hesitate to hurt your family in ways that you won't even understand until it's done and over with,' the woman threatens, and I'm impressed. Kaelie backs away, still pale.

Isabelle's mother turns to us. 'You must be Clary. Isabelle has told me about you,' she smiles, extending a hand, 'I'm Maryse.'

Isabelle looks like her mother, except the fact that Maryse has striking blue eyes, and not brown ones. She's wearing a dress made of fine lace which falls till her ankles, and is high collared. Her inky black hair is in curls and she wears minimal jewellery. In short, she _looks _like a mother. The fact sends a pang through me as I realise I will probably never experience what it's like to have a real mother.

I take her hand and give it a small shake. 'Nice to meet you,' I say, and I notice a little boy peeking out from behind her. He looks exactly like her, but his hair flops around his temples. He gives me a shy smile and he reminds me so much of Simon that it hurts.

'You must be Max who likes food,' I say to him, and he nods, his blue eyes sparkling.

'Jace,' Maryse turns to him once they're seated. 'Have you thanked this lady for helping Isabelle?' she asks and I can feel my cheeks flush a little. Why?

Jace looks at me, and a corner of his mouth tips upwards, ever so faintly. 'Yes, mother,' he tells her, toying with the stem of his wineglass. I'm tempted to tell his mother what an asshole he was about it but I keep shut since I'm not one to sic mothers on children.

And it makes me notice how different Jace looks from Maryse, Isabelle and Max. Maybe he's adopted. I'm not mad at Isabelle for not telling me. I never tell others about the fact that_ I'd _also been taken in by another family. And also, Isabelle barely knows me. I'm sure she just saw that I was just a lone person and pitied me.

That thought irritates me a little because I'm so used to being pitied and by so many people because every time my adopted family and I have been in the company of others, they've always referred to me as their _adopted daughter _or _the one we took in_, and not _our daughter_. The only one who doesn't is Sera. So, I'd taken to calling them Valentine and Jocelyn, or my _adoptive parents_.

They didn't care all that much. Hell, they wouldn't have cared if I ran away and joined the bloody circus. Why, it would be one less problem for them. Just a little rumour that I'd been married off to someone far away, and their little problem with anyone who asked would be taken care of.

'Clary,' Isabelle cuts off my train of thought as she gestures to two people who'd been seated at the table, while I was contemplating the deep meanings of life. 'That's my brother, Alec and that's father.'

The younger of the two, Alec, is a spitting image of the man seated next to him. Alec mutters out a greeting while his father raises a brow. 'Clary, is it?' And apparently, I'm pretty famous in their family.

'Yes, sir,' I mumble under my breath and feel like his gaze is dissecting me, judging if I am worthy enough to be acquainted with the likes of their family. I've noticed the attitude is common among patriarchs of the family.

'It's Robert Lightwood,' he says, forcing a smile. I give him an equally forced smile in return.

* * *

After dinner, the family and I are still seated around the table. It seems rude to leave since they're all still here, so I just sit there as Maryse asks me, 'So, Clary, tell me. What's your family like?' while propping up her chin on her hand. Her elbow rests on the table, completely casual, unlike the stuck up women with stiff backs and snobby demeanour. I like her.

I hesitate a little. I really don't wish to indulge in any details. 'They're…' I start lamely and Jace's brows raise.

'They're nice?' he asks. 'That's my answer when someone asks me how I feel about women and their companionship.' I stare at him.

'Jace. Please refrain from being vulgar,' Robert warns lazily before downing a glass of whiskey.

Jace rolls his eyes. 'Delve deeper, Cherry,' he prods and I snap.

'How about you tell me about _your_ parents?' I bite, and I see Jace's form go rigid, and his eyes harden into chips of stony amber. I vaguely register Isabelle, Aline and Maryse's gasp and I start to see red.

'Mine are dead,' I inform them indifferently, but on the inside, I feel my heart squeeze because it's one of the rare moments where I actually acknowledge what's happened to them. 'They're dead,' I repeat, 'and I live with people who could barely give a damn about me.' I don't know where all the words are coming from, and _why_ they are.

Jace has gone white, a complexion matching my knuckles. Aline next to him, whispers something in his ear and she looks at me apologetically. 'He didn't mean to pry,' she says but I'm shaking my head.

I push back the chair, not caring about the screech of the legs or the fact that it's rude that I'm walking away like this.

All I can care about right now is that I should really get away from here before I cry. I don't like people seeing my tears since it's been drilled into my head repetitively by Valentine that I'm not weak. Tears mean weakness, in his book, and he has often punished me for showing weakness.

I hear Isabelle's faint cry of my name but I'm already out, the door flopping back and forth from my force.

* * *

**A/N: Hey! I'm back. Alive. I've literally spent the last two or something weeks sleeping. Like, I went into hibernation. Or I became nocturnal. One of those. Also, a guest, somerandomloner left a loooong review-the longest review I've ever received on any story, probably, and they left a review on many of my stories. I'd reply directly, but alas, it was a guest. **

**somerandomloner****:** No, in fact, your reviews made me so happy. And, it's awesomesauce that you're gonna turn 13. And if you like writing, go for it. It prolly won't be perfect the first time, but there are plenty of chances to correct and work on it. If you have an account on FF, and want to talk to me, I'm always up for PMs. My inbox is totally open to everyone.

**Meeeeeee****:** Thank you :) Seriously, your reviews on all my stories make my day(s). I can never reply directly to you, since you post as a guest. But honestly, I completely appreciate all your thoughts. Thank you.

**EEEEEP guess what? I'm starting ninth grade on 6th April! Whooooo. Also, I just finished reading the Lux series and holy alien babies, it's perfection. I literally finished reading one book per day, so all 5 books in 5 days. The one-book-per-day thing only ever happened with The Selection trilogy. And Mortal Instruments. Yep. I'm currently obsessively listening to Gravity by Against the Current.**

**I love writing this, and hope you're liking the story. Thanks for reviews, follows, favourites. **

**So leave me a review telling me what you think because I'm typing blind here.**

**-Sparrows13**

**PS. I pinned a picture of Maryse on the Bluebirds board on Pinterest, and she looks like Lilian Salvatore from TVD. Go check out. I've linked the board in my profile.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own TMI. Seriously. This disclaimer bidness is getting boring. Like hello. I'm posting this on fanfiction. That's proof enough that I don't own TMI**

**Chapter 4**

* * *

I stare at the dark, churning ocean below, and after a while, the blur clears. The waves crash against the ship while I stand at the bow's deck. I doubt people are allowed to be here, but there was no one there to stop me.

I really want to punch someone right now. I think it was a good decision to come out here because had I accidentally—on purpose—punched Jace, I probably would've created a scene and been told to leave. I'd be pretty humiliated.

I lean against the railing, but not too far because my skirt is pretty long and I don't want to topple over. The night breeze is cool and it helps soothe my burning lungs as I take gulp after gulp of fresh air. I might look like a demented fish right now, but I can't care less.

Once I've calmed down, I pluck the dark metal chain from around my neck and gaze at the blue stone set between the ornate design. A tiny bluebird is perched atop a twig. I feel my lips tug into a smile as I remember Sera fawning over the tiny baby bluebird she had nursed back to health with my help.

When I click open the picturesque lid, I see Sera's tiny picture staring back at me and I almost dissolve into tears. How cruel is it that one person, _one person_ who cares about me –and the one person I actually care about— is forced apart from me?

I'm so immersed in my own little world that I don't notice when an elbow brushes mine. I jump, and I feel the chain slip from my grasp. But before it can topple into the sea, a slender hand catches it and places it in my outstretched palm.

Almost disturbed by what almost happened, I turn my head and grit my teeth as my eyes fall on Jace. I'm about to say something very snarky to cover up the embarrassment of storming out but before I can say a thing, he raises his hand and cuts me off.

'I'm sorry for what I said back there. I didn't realise it was such a sore spot,' he says, not looking at me. And I'm stunned. What happened to the asswipe he was being just barely an hour ago?

I don't know what to say, so I just keep quiet. Jace digs around his pocket and produces a cigarette and a lighter. 'Do you mind?' he asks and I shake my head. I'm too used to the smell.

'But your lungs might,' I point out quietly and he scoffs as he places the cigarette between his lips and lights it.

'Eh,' he shrugs, carefree. 'Aline doesn't mind. No one does.'

'And is Aline not looking for you?' I ask. I don't know why I need the answer.

'No,' he says after releasing a puff. It reminds me too much of Valentine. I pluck the destroyer-of-lungs from his grasp and press the butt against the railing and then toss it into the sea.

Jace's brow arches. 'That was the last one,' he tells me.

'Doing you a favour here,' I say. 'What's the story behind Aline?' I ask, hoping to change the subject.

Jace looks at me weirdly but replies, 'There is no story,' nonchalantly. I frown.

'There's always a story,' I say matter-of-factly.

'Not here. We don't love each other,' he says to my surprise. What does he mean?

'You don't...so why are you marrying her? If you don't mind me asking,' I add hastily.

'She's my best friend,' he informs me with a smile. A genuine smile like I wore whenever I was with Simon. That smile seems like such a mocking ghost right now. 'And she's...she's never had a choice in this matter. She's forced by her parents. And I understand that she can't marry someone she doesn't know so I offered. And Aline's offered me the option of...well, courting others.'

_Oh_. 'But you two would really enter a loveless marriage?' I ask despite myself.

Now it's Jace's turn to frown. 'We love each other as friends, and though that might not be ideal, it works for us. She'd never have a problem with me being with others. She's not attracted to me. Or to men in general.'

_Ah. That explains it_.

'But what if you want to marry someone else, someone you actually love in that way?'

Jace thinks for a few seconds, or I assume he's thinking because he turns his head away. 'I won't.'

I laugh. 'That's completely based on chance. How do you know? How do you know you won't love?'

His face turns to me again, and somehow it seems like he's shifted closer because his nose is a few inches from mine. 'Because I assumed I'd found the one. And you know where that led.'

I'm confused for a while. It's probably because of his spicy scent enveloping my senses. 'You mean Kaelie?' He nods.

Okay, I am completely amused. I giggle, which turns into a full-blown laugh. 'You can't base your future off of something that's happened in the past! You're completely destroying any chances at happiness you might have,' I say which earns me a scowl from Jace.

'And you know this how...?' he challenges and I shake my head.

'I know when someone's making a bad decision. Hell, I have been there to witness some of the stupidest decisions made by Si—' I choke on my words, partly horrified at how easily the words came out of my mouth, like I was joking with _him. Simon_.

Jace's head cocks. 'Who?'

'No one,' I wave him off, also trying to fend off the coming onslaught of tears.

'Oh, come off it. I practically did the whole bare-my-love-life-soul-thingy to you and when I ask a question, you get all defensive?' he asks indignantly and I realise he's right.

'Well, no one forced you to answer them,' I say and Jace's lips tilt up in a way which almost melts my insides.

He leans in, his breath stirring my free curls. I don't push him away and notice that this look that he's giving me has turned more sincere. 'When you ask like that, who can refuse?' he asks, twirling a curl around his finger and pushing it back behind my ear. I almost shudder. He should be ashamed. He's engaged.

But he doesn't love her and she doesn't love him, an irrational part of me argues and I push it away.

I squint, and before this can go further, I turn my head. 'He was my best friend,' I tell him finally, if only to stop whatever he's doing to me. If he's even aware of what he's doing, turning my stomach to mush.

'Was?' I hear his voice and I nod.

'Was. He's died. Everyone I've loved has died,' I say in barely a whisper, more to myself than him, and it's true. More true than anything I've ever believed in except my love for Sera.

I realise that this is sort of our first real conversation, not counting the almost spontaneous combustion in my doorway earlier. It unsettles me, how deep this conversation is so I mutter a goodnight and turn on my heels, trying to shake off the feeling of his fingers playing with my hair and his hot and cold attitude.

'It's Jonathan,' I hear him say, but his voice is far away. 'My full name.'

I frown, but don't stop and leave him standing there.

* * *

**A/N: Hey! What? Two chapters in two days?! (Two in one day since I posted them after twelve am here.) I just want to put it out there that I love ||Superwoman||. **

**I was literally bombarded with follows and stuff and thank you for that. I'm posting this from my phone and my phone isn't cooperating. The keyboard disappears every few seconds. Gaah. **

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**-Sparrows13**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

* * *

I walk next to Isabelle, maintaining a distance which is respectable, taking into account the fact that I don't know Isabelle all that well. I smooth my hands over my pale blue silk skirt and feel my fingers brush against the darker gold lace embroidery at the waist.

I look like a frail doll next to Isabelle's magnificent glamour, where Isabelle's hair is done up in an elaborate twist, mine is held back loosely with a gold ribbon, and curls escape from the sides. I barely had time to get dressed when Isabelle had her maid knock at my door, hence the haphazardness.

Isabelle grabs my hand and pulls my next to her. I guess, maybe I was walking a yard away or something. 'I don't bite,' she laughs, twining her hand in mine. Awkward.

'Is this really necessary, Isabelle?' I ask her for probably the tenth time this morning.

'No,' she repeats, 'but I would love for you to get to know us better.'

I clamp down on what I am about to say: _Does it really matter? You'll go one way, I'll go the other._ Instead, I nod and Isabelle leads me across decks toward an elegantly set table where Aline already sits next to Jace, and he laughs at something she's said.

Maryse is speaking to her husband and Max, and Isabelle strikes up a conversation with her brother as soon as her behind hits her chair. And me? I just sit at a corner, trying not to look painfully unnoticed. When a waitress asks me if I'd like tea, I politely turn her down, because I honestly can't bring myself to drink or eat anything at the moment. Maybe it's seasickness or something.

Minutes pass, and I find myself realizing how lucky Isabelle is. She has a family, and she's _adored_ by them. They're so laid back, and Aline's doted over like she's their daughter. And then I guess I'll never have that. They laugh and joke around, completely at ease around one another. Whenever my adoptive family and I even remotely behaved like this, we were silent and the smell of Valentine's liquor hung sharply in the air.

And wow, I am completely giving off negative vibes, so I should just stop. I realize that now, Aline has slumped in her seat and I follow her gaze to who stands behind me. Great, Kaelie.

She smiles fake-sweetly at me, her eyes an unnatural shade of blue. 'So, I hear you're new in the social scene,' she says, and I'm taken aback. Social scene?

'I'm not sure I know what you're talking about,' I say, picking at my plate of eggs.

Kaelie makes a _tsk_ sound and seats herself beside me without invitation. This girl has the manners of an ape. 'I'm told your family owns the private club in the city,' she tells me. _She's been told, _I've come to find out, is an euphemism for _I've asked around, done a bit of digging, found out whatever I can. _

'That's true,' I tell her slowly and I see that Isabelle's family is looking at me.

Kaelie claps her hands together. 'Oh! That is so _convenient_! You must introduce us to them,' she says and I can't help but notice her enthusiasm is very fake.

Aline huffs. 'There is no _us_, Kaelie,' she says coldly, 'you are not a part of this family and you'd do well to remember it.' Go Aline.

Kaelie's smile turns sour. 'Aline. Please, reconsider. I'd hate for my tongue to slip in front of Clarissa here.'

And at that, Jace smirked. 'Kaelie, dear, she knows.' These are the first words today mentioning me that he's said. No hello, how are you, did I offend you yesterday.

Kaelie narrows her eyes and turns on her heels, stalking away. I let out a low whistle. 'Do you all deal with this everyday?' I ask them, half curious and half wanting to turn this conversation away from the awkward silence that was sure to follow.

To my surprise, it's Alec who scoffs. 'Almost everyday. You'd think we'd be used to it by now but no dice. She's a fucking parasite, that one,' he says loudly and Maryse lets out a tiny gasp.

'Alexander Gideon Lightwood, you mind your tongue. We are not in the catacombs of this ship with the Third Class,' she reprimands, grabbing her napkin and dabbing at her mouth. And then she gives him a tiny smirk. 'But you are very accurate.'

Robert grins and then Jace, then Isabelle, Aline and little Max whose been listening in on the conversation. This is contagious so I grin, too.

* * *

I'm walking along the railing, looking out at the ocean which looks bejeweled because of the sun. There's no sign of life in the air, no birds. I can't even see fish in the sea. But what did I expect? Fish parading themselves around in lingerie?

I lean against the railing, my hands folded together and someone touches my shoulder. I suppress a twinge of annoyance. Everybody wants to talk to me. Am I a speaking exhibit? No.

It's Isabelle. She smiles and stands next to me, following my gaze. 'Beautiful, isn't it?' she asks, her chin propped on a hand. 'You know, if you try walking the opposite direction, it feels pretty amazing.'

What? I look at her, questioning and she smiles, huffs and grabs my hand. She has been doing that a lot, I realize.

We start walking the opposite way, and I ask, 'Did someone send you out here?' because it's painfully obvious that I'm not a social person and that it must not be a great joy having to talk to me.

Isabelle hesitates and smiles brightly. 'No,' she says, 'I came out here to ask you something.' She raises her eyebrows in a pleading manner.

'What?' I ask warily, looking away.

'Well...you know, you and Jace are sort of on the same boat,' she starts and I interrupt.

'No, really?' It's like I can't help it.

Isabelle rolls her eyes. 'Literally and metaphorically. See, Jace isn't exactly sunshine and rainbows, you know? He can appear to be a bit...harsh and intimidating. _But_, underneath that entire tough exterior, he's actually very sweet and loving.'

'I find that hard to believe,' I say flippantly. 'He's a dick. Sometimes, there are people who don't need to be psychoanalyzed. Maybe they're just...those. _Dicks_.'

Isabelle actually laughs out loud. 'You saw what happened with Kaelie. And if you haven't guessed it yet, she used him, and cheated and disposed. It's not hard to believe that he _had a heart_ before all that.'

I turn towards her. 'See, Isabelle, he's being whiny about it, alright? So what? People are screwed over at least once in their lifetime, if not multiple times. Jace can get over that. He doesn't need for that to become his thing. He can either accept it, forget it and move on, or he can hold on to it and see where that gets him.' I finish my rant and stop walking, leaning over the railing again.

Isabelle is silent for a while. Then, 'Like the way you have that thing?'

I narrow my eyes. 'What?' I ask, without looking back.

'Like your mommy and daddy issues,' she clarifies. I'm used to this.

'They _raised_ me, if you can even call it that, it's not like it's a small incident. Tell me, Isabelle, how many people have the childhood I've had?'

She scoffs. 'I'm not trying to be rude, but probably thousands. And Jace is one of them. Do you know how close your comment that night hit home?' I turn my head fractionally. She throws up her hands and lets them fall down. 'You know, _you_ are the one who seems to be so brooding. _Oh, my family died, oh they abandoned me, oh my new family is so horrible, oh they raised me_. Maybe _you_ could just try to _accept it, forgive it and move on_.'

Isabelle is being relentlessly cruel right now and she doesn't even know it. 'Isabelle, this is my problem, Kaelie is his. Why are you butting in? I've known you one day. What makes you think you've gotten a read on me and have any right to interfere?'

'Interfere the way you did last night with Jace? He told me.'

I recognize that I don't need this right now. I turn on my heels.

Before I walk away, I say, 'Just so you know, _he_ came after _me_ yesterday. And we talked. So please, don't make it seem like I don't open up to anyone. I spent time with your family, despite feeling like shit because my family is shipping me off. That's more that anyone can say for me.'

I see tears in Isabelle's eyes. Oh, well. I guess she didn't know exactly how ignorant my family is, or that I have social issues.

'I'm sorry,' she says, 'can we please just forget this afternoon happened?'

I shake my head a little. 'Can you and your family please just leave me alone for a while?'

Isabelle looks a bit heartbroken. But she nods. 'I just wanted to—'she starts but I cut her off.

'Not now, please.'

Now I know exactly why I feel so off and grumpy today. It's eleventh April. It's Simon's death date and Isabelle couldn't have picked a worse timing.

* * *

**A/N: Yeah, sorry, that happened. So, I checked and saw that this fic reached 2300 views which is awesome. Thank you for all the reviews, favorites and follows. They mean so much. **

**I'm beta'ing this story by AbibliophobicOO7, called 'Kidnapped' and though it's just been published, it seems pretty rad. So, check it out and leave her a review or something. Which reminds me, I'm taking requests for beta'ing, and if you're interested, check out my beta profile and send me a PM. **

**Aaaand, I updated my very drab profile and included some things about me in case anyone wanted to know. It's very random. **

**Meeeeeee: **Yes, yes you may murder Jocelyn. Add flair to it, okay? Like, use a jeweled knife, and say something witty before you kill her. Clary's life does suck. But maybe not for long.

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**So. Leave a review? I'm sorry there wasn't a less painfully awkward way to ask. **


	6. Chapter 6

**_Chapter 6_**

* * *

It's lying there on the vanity table, an invitation. It's in an ivory envelope with my name scrawled across it in cursive, and it smells of rose scent.

But I can't care less about that as I stare at a black and white picture that was taken when Simon and I were on a picnic with another friend of ours, Jordan. He's married to Maia now, I'm on my way to New York and where did Simon end up?

Simon looks so happy in the picture, his hair playfully messy, his tie askew—because the boy just couldn't tie a tie—and his overcoat wrinkled. Not a picture that would attract a lot of girls but it was enough for me.

There was a time when we felt the same way about each other, when he promised me he'd save me from Jocelyn and Valentine, that he'd marry me.

And then that small bubble burst when he died in a fire at a pub. It was brutal, and he didn't deserve it. It left him charred, so much so that I couldn't even recognize his face.

I blink back tears and push the photograph under the mattress, and it is one _heavy_ mattress, then I glance once again at the vanity.

After I stormed off earlier, it took about fifteen minutes for Isabelle to disrespect boundaries and send me an invitation to a private gathering on one of the decks that the Lightwoods organized. I obviously took one look at the card and flung it away. I didn't feel in the mood for festivities, especially not today.

But I still asked one of the maids to unpack one of my evening gowns from my trunks. 'Surprise me,' I said.

Now, I sense it was the wrong call because I feel miserable. I feel like someone has shat all over my good mood from this morning.

God, was it really this morning that Alec was dissing Kaelie behind her back? It seems like a lifetime ago. I blame that on what happened this afternoon.

After I calmed down enough to think rationally, I realised that my comment about Jace was unnecessary, I didn't even hear what Isabelle was going to say.

A sharp knock on my door startles me, and I almost drop the hairbrush I'm holding. As far as I know, everyone is at the party. Unless it's Isabelle…she can be very annoying at times. In which case, I am ready to bitch out right now. My reflection time hasn't been _that_ long.

I fling open the door, ready to deliver a speech when I see that Aline is standing there, and she is in tears, clutching her torso with one hand, as she wipes her nose with the other.

'What the bloody hell happened?' is the first thing that comes out of my mouth and I reach for her but she barges in.

'I didn't know whom to go to, and I didn't want to talk to Isabelle or Maryse or anyone remotely Lightwood, and I barely know anyone here,' she starts, and sinks down on the sofa in the living room connected to my room.

I shut the door behind me and sit down beside her. 'Well, I'd be more well equipped to deal with this situation if you told me what is going on,' I say calmly. I read somewhere once that during a state of panic, staying calm helps calm down others.

Aline looks at me tearfully. 'Jace broke off our engagement,' she tells me, her voice barely a whisper.

'That _bastard_,' with emphasis on bastard would probably be the best thing to say in this moment, but that would be if the guy is a son-of-a-bitch, and the girl is in love with him. But, this isn't a normal situation because Aline doesn't love him that way, neither does Jace her.

'Isn't that good?' I ask, 'That way you two wouldn't have to pretend any more.'

'Yes, Jace told me that he told you about your talk last night. And yes, it would be good,' she agrees, 'it's just that I've messed this up, so much, you don't even know.'

I freeze for a moment. 'Would you like to tell me?' I ask her tentatively.

She looks panicked, and then her brows furrow. 'Yes,' she says first, then, 'no. I don't know,' and then she drops her head into her hands. 'It's like I'm stuck. I don't know what to do.'

I just sit there, not knowing what to do because it's not everyday I comfort crying people. I don't know _who_ in their right mind would come to _me_ for help. It's not like I have a degree in all this. I think of asking her what happened, but that'd be too repetitive.

I put a hand on her back. 'It'll be okay,' I say, but she's not having any of if.

'No, it won't. You don't get it, I love someone whom I shouldn't. Whom I couldn't possibly be with. I can never be happy like that, Clary. Do you know how depressing it is when I think of my future without anyone?'

I do. I absolutely do. 'No, I don't,' I tell her, taking her hand. 'For as little as I've known you, I know that you are a good person. You're going to find someone who loves you, Aline, and you're going to have a good life,' I don't know where all this is coming from, but I go on, 'You're going to try and be happy. That's as good as it'll probably get.' I guess it's what I've believed for myself since Simon.

I'm curious to know whom she loves, but I probably don't know the person. 'So, Jace told me you two were best friends,' I say, trying to change the topic. 'Any baby stories I should know of? For later reference, of course.'

At that, Aline scoffs. 'Oh yes,' she confirms. 'Lots.'

* * *

**A/N: Hey, I would've posted this earlier, but my mother had her Psychology paper today and she had to go over some notes on the laptop. But I'm here now! **

**Thank you so much for reviews, follows, favorites and all. I just love writing this story, and I'm so glad you like it. So, I know how it's going to end, all the details. I think it'll be around 11 or 12 chapters in total. Like, 6 or 7 more chapters. As I mentioned in the summary, it's a short story. And for those wondering, it ****_is_**** on the Titanic, so it _will_ have that disaster. It's not like I'm going to change anything. This chapter was the end of day 2, so there are two more days left. And I'm not spilling anything about whose going to survive and who isn't. So...  
**

**Famous0618:** Ah…*taps side of nose* you'll have to see**. **

**Meeeeeee: **Me? I did post a oneshot and another chapter of Mirror Worlds. That's not inactivity. Aaaand here's your update.

**Guest: **Thank you J And sorry for the tears. Not.

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**Leave a review?**


	7. Chapter 7

**_Chapter 7_**

* * *

'God, Jace, I hate you,' came Isabelle's shout as Jace hurried out of their suite. One day and a half after Aline came to me, I was on my way to the dining hall when I heard Isabelle and Jace fighting like dogs.

Jace shuts the door behind him and leans against it, letting out a sigh of relief. 'That bitch's a handful,' he says to me by way of greeting.

I fold my arms over my lilac cashmere sweater. It's paticularly chilly today. 'What happened?' I ask casually as he walks next to me through the corridor.

He runs a hand through his hair and it looks like he haphazardly threw on whatever clothing he could find as he is wearing a rumpled white shirt and ironed trousers with dress shoes. 'Oh, um, we were talkin about Aline and she asked me how I could do this, and I asked her if she was…you know…' he leans forward and whispers, 'in her time of the month.'

Son of a bitch doesn't even look embarassed. I raise my hand and he flinches a little before I say, 'There's something in your hair.' And I smack the back of his head. 'Never say that to a woman again,' I warn him. 'No one ever told you that?' Somehow I find that hard to believe, what with him growing up with Isabelle and Aline.

'Well, why else would she be so damn hormonal?' he grumbles.

This time, I smack his arm. 'Yeah, don't say that either.'

He huffs. 'Isabelle's acting really strange these days. She doesn't eat, says she feels sick. Don't tell her, but she's a tiny bit bloated, too.' It's like the boy doesn't understand females.

'She might be in her time of the month, but you're _not supposed to point that out_,' I educate him. 'That's going to aggrevate any woman.'

Jace's eyebrows shoot up. 'You all have such unsaid rules.'

'That _is_ how we function,' I tell him and he nods in wonder. 'So, what _did_ happen with Aline?' I shouldn't prod, but I can't help it. It's out of my mouth before I can stop it. _Hypocrite._

_'_I realised you were right,' he says oh-so-normally. 'I won't be able to live like that, not if Aline loves Isabelle.'

I choke on my own spit, and cough. '_What_?' I state rather than ask.

Jace looks to me. 'Oh, I assumed Aline told you.' I swear, it doesn't seem as if he's just told me something personal about his best friend and sister doing the deed.

'Well, no, she didn't. I'm sure the couple will appreciate it,' I say sarcastically.

Jace waves a hand. 'Tonight, I'm showing you how the Lightwoods do it,' he informs me.

'Excuse me? Do what?'

'Relax; it's not as if I'm inviting you to an orgy. God, live a little. Cards, dancing, and music, the lower decks,' he clarifies at my horrified expression. I'm sure I'm beet red now.

'I didn't think your parents lived life…on the edge,' I admit, a little hesitant to believe that there would be a moment where Maryse and Robert _didn't_ have sticks up their…posteriors.

'They don't. But they are tonight after dinner. We children are quite persuasive,' he says with a wink, and walks off, leaving me standing there, gaping like a fish.

* * *

Once I'm alone in my rooms after dinner, before the time I agreed to meet Jace, I sit at the writing desk, uneasy. I'm almost always reminded of Sera, these past few days. Everywhere I go, I double check to see if it's Sera. I think I'm going a bit paranoid.

I grab a fountain pen from the holder and hold it over a small piece of paper. I'm thinking of writing a letter to send to her once I'm in New York but no words flow. It's not happened before.

_Sera,_

_Remember me while I'm gone._

_Clary_

This is all I write. At least she'll have something to remember me by when I'm a continent away. I take off my necklace, winding it around the small piece until it resembles a tiny scroll, and tuck it inside a small brass box I carry my ribbon in. I seal it and drop it into my pocket.

* * *

_Oh, wow_, is all I can think when Jace leads me down the narrow staircase and to a bustling room, full of merrymakers dancing to some festive tune or the other, some in corners betting on arm wrestling matches, playing poker or cards. The place looks like a tavern, wooden tables here and there, a small elevated platform serving as a stage for the performers and instrumentals.

Some of the people are drunk, and some are halfway there, and it looks so laid back, I love it.

'Tonight, let's not talk about personal stuff, okay?' Jace asks as we reach the bottom step. He holds out a hand, and I take it.

'Wow...y'all are some hardcore partiers,' I comment, looking around. I spot a tipsy Maryse, with Alec next to her, and Robert talking to some woman near the bar. Isabelle sits next to Aline, and Max, too, is present. I don't think this is the environment for a child, but when I point it out to Jace, he tuts.

'Max has been to these parties many times. Besides, we couldn't leave him alone. Isabelle's staying sober tonight, she volunteered. Though, I don't know why. She usually drinks like a thirsty fish,' he informs me. By this time, someone's handed Jace a glass of beer, and he's sipping it.

'Is she pregnant?' I ask, and I guess it's the wrong thing to say because Jace chokes, and I have to slap his back a couple of times.

'_What_? No...of course not,' he denies, though he seems unsure.

'When did she and Aline start their relationship?' I ask, trying to put pieces together.

He thinks about it. 'A couple of days ago, and it's one of the reasons I ended it with Aline...I couldn't do that to my sister.' He seems sincere.

Someone grabs my hand and places a glass in my grip. Everyone here seems so friendly, so different from the snobs on the upper decks. I like it here. I don't, however, like beer.

I hand the glass to Jace who shrugs. 'Something stronger?'

I shake my head. 'No, I don't drink.' Nor will I ever, probably. I look towards the packed room. 'So, what are we doing now?'

He chuckles, and his smile lights up the whole room. It's actually endearing. 'It's kind of my duty now, to introduce you to Six-Fingered-Nigel.' He grins, and sets down one of the glasses on a table nearby and grabs my hand, dragging me towards a crowd.

* * *

At around sometime before midnight, I see Alec escorting his now drunk mother upstairs, presumably to her room, and I turn to Aline. 'So, how's your life with Isabelle treating you?' I ask, and she smiles giddily.

'Good,' she slurs a little. ''S good.' Her eyes are a bit droopy.

'Do you want to go to bed?' I ask, supporting her.

'Yes...with Isabelle.' God, she's whipped.

'Okay, we're going to get you back to your room. I can't find Isabelle anywhere, though, so tough luck,' I inform her, and she shakes her head.

And then it happens.

* * *

Everything moves, like it's jerking apart. The walls, the floor, the ceiling. I almost lose my footing, and so does Aline, but I help her up before she can topple onto the floor and hit her head or something.

Everyone launches into conversation, until someone assures everyone that it just might be some technical difficulty. Still, one of us is sent up to check on it.

Isabelle volunteers. I don't know where she comes from, but she's got Max with her, and she grabs Aline's arm. She tell me it's way past Max's bedtime, and that she should put him and Aline to bed.

* * *

Isabelle didn't come back, so I assumed everything was fine, right up until someone came down later—an hour or so, bearing the news that the compartments beneath us were filling up with water. Some failure, they said, and that the elevators and the ways to the lower decks would soon be shut down.

Everyone is in chaos, now. It seems pointless to try and find Jace, but I do anyway. I push against the crowd, everyone seems to head up, towards the door, and I can understand now. The water seeps in through the sides, almost like it's coming out of the floor, but I can see the cracks in the sides now.

The room is small, and the water filling fast, till my ankles. I kick against it, and I finally spot Jace's head at the back of the crowd. Is he mad?

'Jace!' I yell, and his head snaps towards mine, and it's like he's desperate.

'Go back!' he shouts over the masses. He's stuck at the back, I can see, and he's crazy to think I'd leave.

'No,' I tell him once I'm finally there. 'Come on!' Everyone is leaving fast, and we might be stuck here. I see he's limping, so I deduce he's twisted an ankle or something. 'Can you walk?'

'Yeah,' he nods, and then goes white. '_Oh, shit_,' he says, his eyes on the door. Most of the people are out now, and I can see that some are pushing against it from the outside.

'It's probably to keep the water out,' Jace realises. He leans heavier on me, and I'm almost crushed by his weight. 'You shouldn't have come back, Clary.'

'Probably...but I did. So, please, shut up and move fast. He shakes his head. 'What do you mean by that? Move your ass, Jace.'

'I can't. The water. It's cold, and my foot is numb.' He's scared now, and his eyes are wild. 'I can't go if I can't move.'

But I think he might be too late, because the door is jammed now.

* * *

**A/N: Hey, I'm back, and yes, that did just happen. So, change of plans, next chapter is the last and I have an epilogue written out, too. I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I just thought it'd be best to end it here rather than drone on and on about topics we don't care about. That, and my vacations end in the beginning of July, 6****th****, I think, and I bet it's going to be hectic as shit, what with a test as soon as we start school again. Like I said in the Chapter 1 author's note, I have no intention to drag this out to be something I'm going to regret.**

**I just sketched Omnom, and I swear, he's so cute. Omnom? From Cut the Rope?**

**Can someone please tell me how my brother understands me so much? He got me a kindle and After Eight. After Eight is so amazing, ****_wow_****. If you don't know what that is, please google it. Or Wikipedia it.**

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	8. Chapter 8

**_Chapter 8_**

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'Isabelle!' I shout, willing her to hear among the throngs of people crowding before the wooden door, which is jammed in place. Jace and I are the only ones stuck on this side.

Isabelle is among them, and I can see her visually scour the people for any sight of Jace, but she doesn't know we're inside. I see her clutching Max to her side, her face patterned with tear tracks.

No one is making efforts to remove the door—instead they're trying to shut it once and for all, and the water is already shin high, so the odds don't look so good.

'Isabelle!' I try again and this time, her head snaps towards me, and her eyes look desperate.

'Clary, oh thank God!' I hear her say once she's against the door. The window is completely barred, with metal rods from one end to the other. 'I don't know what to do,' she wails. 'Please tell me what to do. Where's Jace?' She doesn't know that Jace is in the piano room, that I put him there.

Her questions are getting laced with panic. She's panicking and she has a child with her. This is not good for her. I debate on whether I should tell her or not. I shake my head. 'Isabelle, you need to take Max and reach the deck. And you need to get on a lifeboat,' I tell her.

Her face pales. '_No_,' she says, like I've suggested something outrageous. 'No.'

'Give me your hand,' I tell her calmly. I can't believe I'm so calm right now.

Isabelle's eyes are full of tears, but she does as she's told. I pull it out of my skirt pocket and place it in her outstretched palm. It's the tiny brass box intended for Sera.

'Find my sister,' I tell her and she shakes her head violently but I go on, 'Seraphina Morgenstern. You must know her. Daughter of Valentine Morgenstern?' Her eyes widen. I bet she didn't know _he_ is my father. She's gasping, like she can't get enough air. I think she's going into shock. '_Listen._ Find her, give this to her. You know why I'm trusting you with this? Because I know you're going to get out, and you're going to have a long life with Aline.'

And then she breaks down. She's sobbing uncontrollably, and Max is looking at her with a sadness no nine year old should have. He takes her hand. 'Izzy, we have to go. Jace wouldn't want this to happen to us.'

I'm astonished. This child has more wisdom than any of his age. By now, the hallway has cleared and no one is left behind. Now, I'm scared for Isabelle.

'Isabelle! Go!' I yell, snapping her out of her daze. 'Jace loves you. _I _love you. You're the closest thing I've had to an older sister, and I don't want to see you waste away two lives. This door isn't going to open, all right? Max is a child. He has a life ahead of him. You can't do this now. _Go_.'

She grabs my hand where it rests on one of the metal bars. 'I'm so sorry for that day, I—' she starts but I cut her off.

'I know. Goodbye, Max, Isabelle. It was amazing knowing you.' With that, I turn around after shutting the small window. I couldn't bear to look at them anymore. And now my eyes fill with tears.

I push away the tables and chairs and they go easily as now most are submerged. I look at the destruction and hear faint sounds of yells and panicked cries and I wrap my arms around my torso. Wonder how everything got like this.

Well, everyone dies at some point, be it in an accident, or in old age. I wade over to the dark door on the other side; pushing away floating papers and glasses. Some of them have jagged ends as a result of people throwing them around, so I have to be careful.

I put all my upper body weight against the door and I grip the handle, so it opens, and I see Jace sitting at the piano. The water is up till our waists now, and just below the piano's keys.

His fingers dance over the keys, the sound drowning out all the sounds of people above. I shut the door behind me and lean against it, sighing. I recognize what he's playing as Moonlight Sonata's beginning by Beethoven. It sounds haunting, and every time I've heard it, it's always seemed like it has a sad note in it. Fitting Jace would play it now.

'Jace…' I start, but I don't know what to say. He doesn't lift his head. 'I didn't know you liked Beethoven.' He stops playing.

I hear a scoff. 'I don't. And, there are lots of things you don't know. And I hoped you eventually would, day by day, but that isn't happening, clearly.'

I'm taken aback. 'You don't mean that.' I don't believe him. I struggle against the water until I'm next to him, seated on the bench. His eyes look so sad, it breaks my heart.

'Again, you don't know everything about me,' he says and there's a faint trace of his humor in his voice as he turns his head towards me. 'I'm so sorry I was such an asshole to you when we met,' he apologizes, and I splay out a hand which he takes hold of, his fingers brushing over the knuckles.

'Don't spend this time saying apologies, or goodbyes,' I plead. 'Why'd you tell me to send Isabelle away without a goodbye?' It's a question that's bugged me since he told me.

He turns towards me, the shadows of the water casting a gleam over his eyes. They look so absolutely molten gold. 'She wouldn't have left otherwise.'

Now I know. I know that this man sitting before me is so imperceptibly _good_, I want to protect him from everything daring to harm him. It hurts me to think of what lies ahead of us.

'You know, I always wished I wouldn't die the death of an old lady,' he says and that makes me laugh. It makes me laugh, and laugh.

And now I'm crying. It's as if someone's flipped a switch. It hurts so much, and I don't know if it's going to get better. Jace, without asking, wraps his arms around me, his head leaning on mine. 'I just need to see my sister once again. Just till I'm ready to go.'

He sighs. 'You'll never be ready.'

And he's correct, I won't. Why haven't I thought of _that_?

'Tell me something random.'

'What?'

'You heard me. This is getting very depressing.'

'Because it _is_ depressing, Jace. Dying a slow and torturous death isn't sparkly.'

He huffs out loud. 'Just do it.'

I try not to think of the burn ripping through my heart. 'I've always wanted to learn the starting notes of Für Elise.' Is that all I can think of now?

The water's up till our chests now. 'Oh God, why is it filling up so fast?' I ask him, starting to panic. I'm going to die like this. I have so much to accomplish and I'm just going to _die_.

'E and D sharp twice, E, B, D, C and then A.'

'_What?_' I ask sharply, momentarily at loss for words.

'The starting of Für Elise.' I don't know how he is so ready to accept this.

'Jace. We're going to die.'

His face looks like he's preparing to play a complicated piece. 'I know. This is my fault. Had I not dragged you down here, we'd be alive.'

I don't want him to go blaming himself. 'No. You can't guarantee we would've lived if we hadn't. Just stop. Please let's not talk about any of that.'

He looks downward. The keys are now submerged, the water lifting us up and I can't play what he taught me. The seawater fills the room faster than ever through the vents and cracks. It won't be long before we're underwater and…

I look up toward him. He's looking back at me, and then he says, 'Oh, what the hell,' before he presses his lips to mine, his arm finding my waist, pulling me close into his embrace. Our heads bump the low ceiling.

For a moment, I'm caught off guard. But then I realize what's happening and I smile a little, my arms going up, up until they find his damp curls. He makes a sound of surprise against my mouth and it is amazing. It makes me feel like all this has been worth it. Almost.

One of his hands finds my cheek and he cups it, a thumb gliding across my cheek, his index finger curling around a stray strand of hair before he pulls away. 'God, I wish we had more time,' is what he whispers first, leaning his forehead against mine.

'I know. Maybe in another life?' I joke and he pulls me against his chest as the water level rises till my throat and the base of his neck.

'Maybe.'

The water rises rapidly and relentless, now at my chin. His face looks composed, but I can see that his eyes are scared, desperate. I raise a hand out of the water and brush away his hair from his eyes.

And then right before the water goes up above our heads, his lips brush mine once, twice, and then we're underwater.

My hands grip his shirt tightly, and his grip is firm on my waist. The reflex to breathe is too strong after sometime, and I grab Jace's hand, place one on his face. It's dark; the lights went out some time ago. I want to say so much to him, _be_ with him, but I can't. I don't ponder on why this happened to us, I don't blame the Universe, I don't think of _coulda_s and _woulda_s and _shoulda_s.

Jace's eyes are barely open now, and I can't blame him. The saltwater stings my eyes, too. I know this is hurting him, so I reach out, and with two fingers, I close the lids. He grabs that hand, as fast as he can through the water, and presses his lips to it.

I fail, and the reflex forces me to inhale water, and I automatically cough, but instead, more water goes in. At this point, I can't see Jace anymore. Everything is going dark, and I feel his hand go limp in mine, just as mine goes numb from the cold, lifeless in his.

Just before all goes blank, I think, _it seems so beautifully orchestrated._

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**A/N: Oh my God…did I just complete an entire story? I am so happy, that you all liked it, that you followed and favorite'ed, reviewed this story. I know a couple of you might hate me for ending it this way, but what can I say? I, too have the kind of feeling where I'm like, if my OTP don't survive, ain't nobody survive. Let everyone fucking die. Buuuut, I couldn't do that.**

**It didn't have the response I expected at the start and I was kind of discouraged and disappointed, but I just wanted to write more for myself, so I decided I would. And then I thought I'd keep updating as I went, and I did. And I'm so glad I did, because people have been so supportive with the reviews.**

**A huge thank you to **xXxNatalyaxXx (Thanks so much for the support throughout, you're an amazing person to talk to about stuff, and an awesome friend),

lovemyblackcat, oesteffel, Ads S, ThatBlondeALB (Meeeeeee), Blue Alaskan Wolf, Emma Herondale 2002, lindsayhonaker, , Realm Of Sushis, Emtpirate214, 5thcandygrande, Celia Herondale, ILiedAboutMyAge, writingismypassion13, LMayyy, DracoLover13TheDeathEater, deardenbronwyn, softballgirl33, Page1of365, MitchyTheBraveShadowhuntress, sch140140 all Anon Guests **and generally anyone who took the time to read it.**

**I have an epilogue written out, which will be posted some time later. It's from Isabelle's point of view, about the aftermath and all. I know so many people must hate me right now, that you won't understand why I wanted this to end this way, and so I'm sorry.**

**I look forward to your reviews, and be ready for a reply in your inbox :)**


	9. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

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**_Isabelle Lightwood_**

**_—_****_15 April 1912—_**

I clutch Aline's hand in one of my hands and Max's shoulder with the other. Max, just nine years old, is much calmer than people twice, thrice his age, and he knew I was freaking out, which I guess was why he made me take him along when I went back to find Jace and Clary. I'm thankful Aline decided to wait for me on the top deck where they were boarding the lifeboats so that I wouldn't have to worry.

Aline's fingers brush over my knuckles in a soothing motion, and I'm so grateful, and so happy that she's by my side but not even her presence can stop my tears from making their way down my face every time I remember that Alec and my mother never made it out. Or, they did, and I can't find them. Either one, and I hope to God that it's the latter.

'Izzy, _what were you thinking,_ going back there in your condition?' Aline reprimands me, grabbing my face in her hands, cradling.

Aline knows, I told her after I found out. I shut my eyes, wondering how everything got so messed up. I'm pregnant, I don't know if my family is dead and I'm in a secret relationship with Aline ever since I accepted that I am in love with her. And my brother is dead.

'What was I thinking? Well, Aline, I don't know. Maybe that Jace and Clary were down there, and that I couldn't leave them to die,' I snap, my eyes tearing up again.

_Jace. _Ever since he joined our family, I've loved him as a sister and nothing less, and I'm heartbroken. Aline seems to sense how I'm feeling because she says nothing and wraps an arm around my shoulders.

**_–_****_16 April 1912—_**

They're not alive. Aboard RMS Carpathia, hour after hour I checked and rechecked the list, hoping every time the passengers of every lifeboat coming in included mother and Alec, but they weren't there.

Father, however, was on one of them…the first ones, and never have I ever been more ashamed to be related to him. He left my brother and mother on the sinking ship, one I _saw_ split in half. There was no way they're alive now—not if that horrendous sight was real, with the freezing temperature of the water.

He promised me he'd go back for Alec and mother and here he is, alive, without them…on one of the first boats. Which speaks for itself. How would he be one the third lifeboat if he went back for Alec and Maryse? Which leaves the only possibility that he _didn't _go back.

I haven't spoken to him—he doesn't even know I'm alive, or Aline's alive. He doesn't deserve to know. Or maybe he does, I don't know. All I know is that my mother and Alec are most probably dead, and it hurts.

**_—_****_28 April 1912—_**

They weren't found. Not by Carpathia, or by the ship that was sent to salvage any bodies found. Aline, Max and I found a boarding house in New York to stay in, and I can't bring myself to look for Robert.

**_—_****_15 May 1912—_**

Aline read me the newspaper today, and I had to place my palms over Max's ears.

_Father's dead._ It seems confusing that he would take his own life after surviving the Titanic. I believe that guilt had something to do with it, and grief. Grief over his entire family's demise, and guilt knowing that he somehow could've saved a few.

I think I should feel remorse, or maybe guilty for letting him believe his _whole_ family was dead. But then, I blame the man for every bad thing that's happened to me. I suppose I could say it's been something of a reflex, since his mental and emotional abuse of us when we were children.

**_—_****_24 August 1915—_**

Aline and I never married, but we live together in a house that we've bought in the countryside. I guess it's better this way. We may never be married, but we're a family in all the ways that matter. With my son, Alexander, and Max, we're it for each other. It's not ideal, but we make it work every day. And I guess that's what matters most.

**_—_****_18 January 1925—_**

It was particularly cold today, when I finally went to visit Seraphina. I heard she was in the city with her husband, so I decided it was finally time I gave her Clary's memento.

It was a day among many from then when it didn't hurt so much to think of Clary or Jace as it did before.

I could never travel by sea again after that catastrophe, and I believed Seraphina would've understood. She had tears in her eyes, and was stricken when I gave her the box. Whatever was in it must have meant a lot to her.

However, she was strong. I admire that about her. I think Clary would, too. In ways more than one, Seraphina is a lot like her sister. I was reminded that the good do influence people to be like them, because Seraphina's parents were definitely not good—Clary was, and I am so glad that Sera decided to follow in her sister's footsteps rather than her parents'.

**_—_****_13 May 1985—_**

It's my twentieth year in an old age facility—Aline, Max and my son left the world before me and it's not something I would wish upon anyone, having to live without loved ones. It leaves me to believe that my grandchildren, and great-grandchildren have grown tired of me. They barely come visit. When they do, it's to sign away a deed, or revise my will. I don't think it matters anymore. Only one of my descendants cares, and she's one I named.

Clary visits me often, sometimes to hear tales of her namesake, as much as I can tell her, given I knew her for a short time.

And once in a while, I believe she shares the same temperament and spirit. It's amazingly uncanny.

**_—_****_16 April 1987—_**

Today, Clary is the only one here. Aged ten, she can barely understand death, and I'm grateful for that. She won't know what will happen to me until some time.

It seems as if I've outlived everyone I've known and loved, and those who strive for immortality are fools, unless they've never loved.

_The End_

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**A/N: So, that's it, folks, for this story. I'm going to be continuing my story, Mirror Worlds when I get time, and those of you who haven't noticed, I've deleted Crossed. I've done that because I lost motivation. **

**Can't believe I actually finished up a story :D **

**Thank you all so much for your reviews last chapter! **

**Guest1: **Ah, sorry. I'm not so sure about the alternate ending, though. I like this the way it is, I hope you understand.

**Guest2: **Why would I do that? 'Cause I'm evil :)

**Olivia:** Thank you so much! Hope you liked this epilogue!

**Guest3: **That's a lot of Os.

**Guest4: **Aw, thank you! That means so much!

**Thank you all for reviewing the last chapter, and I replied to all reviews, if I'm correct. If I missed anyone out, I'm sorry, please know that I appreciated it. **

**And that's it! I might have an idea for another chapter, post epilogue, so you might not want to unfollow just now. But that's just an idea, no promises. **

**It's going to feel so awesome when I put up the complete tag after posting this chapter! Leave a review?**


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